


Drowning in Fog (Marshkit's Identity)

by crystalline_melody



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Absent Parents, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Ghosts, Original Character(s), Training
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-20 19:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14900868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalline_melody/pseuds/crystalline_melody
Summary: “They will be raised by the best mother, trained by the best mentors, led by the best leader, and they will have the power of the stars behind them.” Doespots, though a bubbly, whimsical figure, couldn’t be more serious.Ripplepond looked up, locking eyes with Doespots. “Do you promise?”Doespots’s eyes sparkled with an otherworldly light. “I promise.”-=-Marshkit struggles with every aspect of her being, and the cats and non-cats she meets only make things worse.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy!!

“You know what you must do.”

“But I don’t! I don’t know anything!” Pleas poured out of her mouth like a waterfall. Her life was on the line every second of every minute of every hour, and none of this was under her control. She swore an oath, and it cannot go unfulfilled, but it was hard.

Her captor hissed through their teeth, “Your brain is full of distractions and unimportant information. I am the only one you need. I am the only one you listen to. I am the only one you trust.”

She couldn’t breathe. “Look around you. Do you know any of these cats as well as you know me? Do they know you as much as I know you? We are together until the end.”

Her chest heaved. Nothing was right. Nothing.

“Come with me, little one. I will lead you to the truth.” The larger cat beckoned with their tail, a sickening grin spread across their all-too-familiar face.

And she went.


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and so it begins!!

“Won’t you come see? They’re beautiful! Two toms and one she-cat.” Doespots poked her small head out of the nursery and enticed the leader to take a peek inside. “Ripplepond has finally completed her first birthing. It couldn’t have gone better, it was seamless, perfect!”

Mothstar’s white pelt shone under the hot sun, wispy, thick fur dancing around on her back as she trotted toward the nursery. Ripplepond was the first queen of Greenleaf, and with this litter came a promise of new life in RiverClan.

She peered inside, and instantly, her previously tense mood softened at the sight of the new mother. She looked exhausted, yes, but proud, and happy. The whole of RiverClan had been awaiting the coming of Ripplepond’s litter ever since she moved into the nursery. She was a popular cat, no doubt one of the most charismatic and passionate warriors in RiverClan, and loved her Clan more than anything, but no one could quite figure out who the father was. Ripplepond would become upset every time a cat asked, so every cat soon learned not to try.

“They’re wonderful. What are their names?” Mothstar asked, wanting to know more about the blessings Ripplepond had brought to her Clan.

Ripplepond looked up at her leader with pride. “This one is Sootkit,” she licked a small black tom with fur so dark she almost didn’t notice him there. “Dustkit,” she pointed to a pale brown tabby tom, who looked just like a lighter version of his mother. Finally she placed her paw gently on the final kit, “Marshkit.”

“Fine names for fine kits. They’re lovely.” Mothstar smiled, a genuine show of happiness. “Thank you, Ripplepond. They will be raised by one of the most caring, strongest, and bravest RiverClan warriors I know.” The RiverClan leader dipped her head in reverence. These kits were the life of RiverClan, and maybe, just maybe, one of them would become something more.

“No, thank you, Mothstar. I owe you.” Ripplepond’s tiredness was apparent in her raspy voice. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need some rest. I never knew labor was so… long…”

With a nudge to Dustkit, who was moving more than the others, she laid her head on her nest and began to sleep. Doespots looked at Mothstar with twinkling eyes. “I’m so happy,” she whispered, “they’re amazing. I almost wish they were mine, but I have a job to do.”

Mothstar chuckled lowly, restricting her volume so as not to wake Ripplepond. “Believe me, I feel the same.”

RiverClan’s leader nodded to her medicine cat and left the nursery, preparing to deliver the good news to her Clan. They would be elated to hear that Ripplepond had successfully given birth.

She hopped up on the large, mossy Highrock and called her Clan to a meeting. “Let all cats old enough to swim gather to hear my words!” 

It was obvious that many cats had been waiting for this call; most of the Clan emerged from the shadows of camp to hear their leader speak. Some, though, remained in the shade, hiding in the mouths of their respective dens. The sun was unbearably hot.

“It is my pleasure to announce that Ripplepond’s litter has arrived with no complications.” Mothstar watched her Clan exhale, as if they’d been holding that breath forever. “She has brought to RiverClan two toms and a she-cat: Sootkit, Dustkit, and Marshkit.”

Purring could be heard from RiverClan’s warriors, and even the apprentices smiled. This was good news after a freezing Leafbare. Several cats had lost their lives to starvation, as the river had iced over, and Mothstar had to resort to begging for fresh-kill from other Clans. She herself had lost two lives, as she refused food many times in favor of the elders.

“Ripplepond is sleeping now. Doespots and I would appreciate if she was given some space to recover from the process of birthing. You may now return to your duties.” Mothstar dipped her head and leapt down from the Highrock, zipping instantly into her den.

She left tufts of white fur on the leaves covering the mouth of her den, and once she pushed through the vines, her body began to writhe with tearless sobs. Gasping for air in between bouts of weeping, Mothstar curled her tail around her body. She made herself as small as possible and let the emotion wash over her.

Time could not heal the wounds in her heart and in her spirit. Nothing, no one, no amount of time could help her.

And so she convulsed in solitude.

 

-=-

 

Ripplepond’s soft fur became Marshkit’s comfort over the next few weeks, the first weeks of her life. Her brothers were wriggly and kicked her often, unintentional but still hurtful. Her understanding of the world she lived in was shallow and thin, and with eyes still closed, her world was still black.

The day they did open was particularly hot. She blinked them open, slow, safe, and gazed upon her mother for the first time. She was a black and brown tabby, amber-eyed, and prettier than Marshkit could imagine. Her voice wasn’t the clearest or the loudest, but she purred softly, and Ripplepond gasped at the intensity of her kit’s hazel eyes.

“Doespots! Doespots! Come look!” Ripplepond’s voice carried into the medicine den, and the medicine cat came rushing out with fervor.

“What- Oh, good StarClan! They’re beautiful!” Doespots bounced in place. “This is Marshkit, yes?” Marshkit herself turned clumsily to look at the medicine cat. She looked an awful lot like herself.

“Mm-hmm.” Ripplepond’s amber eyes held the slightest bit of fear as she met Doespots’s gaze. “Do you think she will talk soon?”

“Of course! Within two moons, she’ll be a chatterbox. Kits love to talk once they get the hang of it.” Doespots licked Marshkit’s head, much to Marshkit’s displeasure. She didn’t know this cat. Her mother was the only one who could do that.

“Oh, Doespots…” Ripplepond sighed, “Do you think she will ask?”

“About what?”

“Her father,” Ripplepond whispered, so as not to let Marshkit hear. But Marshkit’s ears were quite keen, even if the rest of her wasn’t, and she listened to her mother’s concerns despite her lack of knowledge.

“I don’t know, to tell the truth. We don’t quite know the future. It is up to StarClan to decide what happens, and it is up to Marshkit to seek or not to seek knowledge.”

“What would I tell her?” Ripplepond’s voice broke. Marshkit, even as a small kit, could tell this wasn’t a happy moment. She cuddled into her mother, hoping to give her the same comfort as her mother had given her.

“Until she is old enough, I would keep your mate a secret. You haven’t told a soul in RiverClan, not even me. She is no different.”

Ripplepond’s eyes dropped to look at Marshkit, who was now feeding. “I hate that I might have to lie to my own kit.”

“It is hard, yes, but StarClan will show you the way. Be aware, be conscious, and our ancestors will help.” Doespots looked apologetic. “I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry.”

Ripplepond smiled, a headache forming behind her eyes. “That’s okay. I know how it feels.”

Doespots sighed. “I’m very glad you’ve brought us these kits,” she changed the subject, “Mothstar and the rest of RiverClan is grateful. Eternally grateful.”

Ripplepond choked back a cough. She knew Doespots was hinting at the losses from the Endless Leafbare two seasons before. Horror seeped into her heart thinking about the deaths of her Clanmates, several of whom she knew better than she knew herself.

“It’s my pleasure. Really. They’re the best things that have ever happened to me.” Ripplepond let out a breath she’d been holding. “I just wish I could give them more.”

“They will be raised by the best mother, trained by the best mentors, led by the best leader, and they will have the power of the stars behind them.” Doespots, though a bubbly, whimsical figure, couldn’t be more serious.

Ripplepond looked up, locking eyes with Doespots. “Do you promise?”

Doespots’s eyes sparkled with an otherworldly light. “I promise.”


	3. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first time out!!

Marshkit’s fur grew fast, and to Ripplepond’s detriment, her thorn-sharp claws grew just as quickly. Playing soon became her favorite pastime, the vines and reeds her favorite targets. Sootkit and Dustkit could say the same, their claws shredding the plant life inside the nursery.

“Oh, Ripplepond, don’t you think it’s time they left the nursery?” Miststep poked her head in, her signature soft smile spread across her face. “They’re getting too big and you’re constantly getting jumped on.”

“But…” Ripplepond was protective, but she didn’t want to admit it. The whole Clan had been waiting for these kits for a long time, and she wanted them to stay out of the clearing as long as possible. It was hot, and they were small, and…

“Come on, Ripplepond, they’re antsy. They want to see the world.” Miststep entered the den, long, fluffy tail streaming behind her. “You wouldn’t deny them a peek out, a look at the clear blue sky, would you?”

“Well…” Ripplepond looked at her kits, who were sitting up straight, practically begging to be let out. Marshkit opened her mouth, but no sound would come out.

Miststep’s tailtip twitched. “I’ll help you look after them, if that puts you at ease.” Ripplepond’s best friend, Miststep, had lost her only kit in the Endless Leafbare. It pained Ripplepond to think about it, but she nodded. Miststep had done her grieving.

“Great!” Miststep bounded out of the nursery, and Ripplepond envied her readiness. After laying in the nursery for so long, she’d grown unused to movement, and much too used to caring for kits in the darkness.

The first step into the light was the hardest for Marshkit. She knew her mother was behind her, and she knew she could run back at any time, but she pushed to make it out. Once she made it through the reeds protecting the nursery, it all clicked together. Her five senses connected for the first time, and she took everything in as it came.

First, she saw. The green beauty of the camp, her camp, struck her. The nursery was dark and cool, but the clearing was warm, lived-in, even inviting. She gawked for a bit before realizing her mother was having trouble stepping around her, so she moved.

Next was touch. The peaty ground, not quite muddy but definitely damp, sunk beneath her pawpads. Sprigs of grass came up through the wetland, and Marshkit pawed at a clump of them. They looked sharp, like long, straight claws, but they did no harm. Marshkit guessed it was because they weren’t strong enough.

The smell hit Marshkit as soon as she raised her head. There were individual smells, the familiar smell of her mother as well as the one she recognized that came from Doespots. She soon came to the conclusion that each cat had its own smell, as some of the apprentices came over. Each smelled different, but somehow each smell was the same.

“Wow, you’re tiny!” An apprentice sniffed at her brother, Sootkit. “I can’t believe I used to be that tiny,” she said incredulously. “What’s your name?”

“Sootkit,” stammered Sootkit nervously. His speaking was much better than Marshkit’s, and Dustkit’s was even better.

“My name’s Dustkit.” Her other brother nosed his way into the mix. “I’m the biggest.”

The apprentice grinned. “You sure are! And… what’s your name?” She looked to Marshkit, curiosity filling her blazing amber eyes.

Marshkit opened her mouth to speak, but Ripplepond interrupted. “This is Marshkit. Her speaking isn’t too good yet.” Marshkit nodded, remembering that Ripplepond had told her that that meant she agreed.

“They’re adorable! Is this their first time out?” The russet apprentice cocked her head as she asked. Ripplepond nodded in response, looking over all of her kits.

“They’re excited to see everything. They’re in that stage of too-big-for-the-nursery mixed with too-small-for-camp. Miststep convinced me to let them have a look at camp for themselves.”

“That’s right!” Miststep grinned. “They’re getting big fast. And they’ll get bigger once they start playing out here instead of in the cramped nursery. Hey, look!” Miststep looked to the side, noting the appearance of Embereyes.

Embereyes was holding a large, thin leaf, probably one of a magnolia tree. “I found this in the shade, and when I saw your kits, I thought they’d like to have something to bat around.”

Ripplepond’s kits wriggled in excitement, and once the black tom put the leaf down, Dustkit was the first to reach it. Sootkit bounded after him, jealous, and Marshkit soon followed. Their game quickly evolved into a game of tag, and Dustkit’s long legs served him well as he ran as fast as he could around the clearing. Several cats stepped out of their way to make room for the quick kit, watching as his brother and sister followed suit.

A patch of particularly muddy ground slipped him up and he slid, coming to a halt in front of the leader’s den. A strong, foreign smell made him yelp in fear and run away, legs covered in mud and leaf punctured by his teeth.

Sootkit ran to retrieve the leaf, but Marshkit stayed, intrigued by the enticing smell of what she later found out was the leader’s den. Though her mother called her to her side and she had to go, she wanted to return later, to find out what was inside that regal cave.

“Dustkit, did you get muddy? Let me wash that off.” Ripplepond ducked to pick up the small kit and bring him to the medicine den, where a small, shallow pool lay.

The small she-kit trotted to where Miststep and Foxpaw were watching from afar, making sure the kits didn’t tumble into trouble.

Marshkit stared up into Foxpaw’s eyes. Pure, clean curiosity drove her to speak clearly for the first time.

“My name is Marshkit.”

Foxpaw’s eyes lit up. “That’s an awesome name. I’m Foxpaw.”

Marshkit grinned. Her teeth were still small and blunt, her face smushed and flat, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from expressing her happiness. Even though she had to crane her head to look at the apprentice, she still wanted her to be her first friend.

“Foxpaw!” A fluffy gray-brown tabby tom called for the apprentice, obviously impatient.

“Sorry Marshkit, that’s Ashthorn. He’s my mentor. See you later!” Foxpaw bounded off, looking back at Marshkit and almost running right into the Highrock. Ashthorn’s tail lashed as she intercepted him, and they left camp together behind some other warriors.

Ripplepond left the medicine den, and a squeaky clean Dustkit walked out behind her. He seemed like he wanted to pout, but the look in his eyes betrayed the wonder that he’d felt seeing the inside of the medicine den.

“It’s getting dark, my lovely kits. Let’s go back inside.” Ripplepond’s soothing voice was like music to Marshkit’s tiny ears, and she trotted back into the nursery with her brothers and mother close behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback helps me immensely!!! whether it be short and sweet or an entire critique, it inspires me to write more!


	4. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go! the plot begins!

Restless, Marshkit tossed and turned in her nest. She had been leaving the nursery regularly, and with exercise came growth. The snoozing of her brothers in other nests made her jealous, wishing to StarClan that they would send her sleep.

Countless hours of stomping and running and playing combined with minute amounts of sleep created a cranky kit. Marshkit’s body heat seeped into the nest she still shared with her mother until she couldn’t take it anymore. Marshkit pushed herself up from the mossy, feathered nest and found herself leaving the nursery.

Three moons, they’d said. Supposedly, this night was three moons from her birth, but she found no reason for excitement. She still had a long way to go until she would become an apprentice, and even then, it was an immense amount of work to become a full-fledged RiverClan warrior.

She hung her head. Growing up was hard. Her brothers seemed ready, even excited to be growing so fast. They’d be excellent apprentices, she thought. But she just couldn’t imagine being anything except for a kit.

“Hey, little bit. What’s on your mind?” Spiderstep’s light pawsteps had gone in one ear and out the other. “You look like you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

Marshkit hummed in agreement. “Everything's happening so slowly, and I still can’t catch up,” she sighed, unwilling to make eye contact with the elder. He was young for an elder, and she figured it was due to early blindness that he had to retire so early. His sightless blue eyes, despite their softness, pierced their way into her heart.

“That’s the worst. I was that way, when I was a kit.” Marshkit looked up in surprise. She’d heard stories of Spiderstep’s expert hunting and tracking skills. “I could never stay up with my sister and brother. They were strong, they were brave, and I admired them and wished I was like them.” Spiderstep looked down as if to point out his frail frame. “But I wasn’t.”

“But you’re… you were the best hunter in the Clan, right?”

“Exactly.” Spiderstep smiled softly. “I found my strengths and I stuck to them. My siblings were fighters, and I found myself in hunting. My passions were different, yes, but they were not bad.”

“Passions…” Marshkit’s mind was racing. What were her passions? What did she enjoy?

“Oh, little bit, don’t you worry about your passions quite yet. Searching for them only ends in desperation. Instead of looking for your passions, let your passions look for you.”

Marshkit narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What?”

Spiderstep’s tail wove through the air like a soft breeze. “Do what you love, Marshkit. Don’t think about it too hard. It will all make sense, and StarClan will make sure of it.”

This put Marshkit at ease. “Well… I like playing Camp Invasion with my brothers… and I can run pretty fast, I think.”

“Now you’re thinking,” Spiderstep grinned, yellow teeth bared in a smile that no longer scared Marshkit, “just keep doing that. Playing and running. It’ll all come together.”

Marshkit’s heart tugged at its strings. Spiderstep had eased her worries once, but how much longer could he do it? Leaffall threatened to turn tail and allow Leafbare to come early, and if this Leafbare was anything like the last…

“Don’t you worry about me, little bit.” Spiderstep’s grin turned into a solemn smile. “I’ll be all right. You know where I am.”

“Thank you.” Marshkit couldn’t be more grateful for Spiderstep. The thin black tom, the only remaining RiverClan elder, had gained her trust.

“It’s my pleasure. You’re the smartest, most sensitive kit I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to be at your warrior ceremony someday.”

Marshkit choked back tears. Would he make it? Would  _ she _ make it?

“Goodnight, little bit. Sleep well. May StarClan send you good dreams.” Spiderstep flicked his tailtip, a tiny ‘good-bye,’ and he was trotting back into the elder’s den. Marshkit watched him go, relaxed and puzzled at once.

With a deep breath, Marshkit padded softly back into the nursery, where she curled up against her mother. Ripplepond made a soft noise, shuffled a bit, and fell back asleep.

**-** **=** **-**

Marshkit’s eyes flew open. A field of soil stretched from where she lay to the horizon. With great effort, she pulled herself up from the ground, and faced the great emptiness head-on.

At first, nothing appeared to face her back. Nothing filled the space. Marshkit furrowed her brows in confusion. What did a dream mean if nothing happened in it?

She saw its tail first. Lashing, angry - like someone had upset it. As her eyes trailed from the tail, she noticed its incredibly black fur, so lightless that it seemed to take light from its surroundings rather than add it. And finally, her eyes came to rest on a nauseating, repulsive, twisted, blood-stained smile.

Marshkit’s paws were locked, frozen in fear. She didn’t know what - or who - this was. Was it a cat? Was it… alive? She’d never seen anything like this before. She desperately wished she never would again, willing herself to wake up, to escape from this… this grin…

“Do not be afraid, little one.” The mouth, the eyeless, noseless face, moved slowly and with purpose. It took a single step towards Marshkit and her heartbeat froze.  _ Please wake up _ , she begged,  _ please _ -

“I just want to talk.” The scenery changed; Marshkit stood in RiverClan’s clearing, the one she’d become so accustomed to over the course of her life, and the shadow rose atop the Highrock. Marshkit wanted to scream, wanted to tell that thing the Highrock was only for leaders, but once she opened her mouth, her voice died.

The shadow’s grin returned as soon as it stopped talking. Marshkit could only watch as it began to speak again, “I have been watching your progress, little one.”

What did that _ mean _ ? Defiance rose like bile in her throat.

“I believe you would be quite a promising apprentice, don’t you think?” Great StarClan, its voice oozed from its throat like honey from a bees’ hive, and Marshkit couldn’t stand it.

“Oh! Look at me, where have my manners gone?” The grin sunk into a disappointed frown, teeth growing sharper by the second. “My name is Shiningstar. I know yours is Marshkit.” With a flick of its tailtip, the silhouette, the one known as Shiningstar, changed the setting again.

Now they stood, level, in a forest. It was unbearably bright, and Marshkit could see cats, far away, dazzling like stars. She willed them to save her. They didn’t.

“Little one, I believe you know where we are now.” It was obvious. Did Shiningstar take her for… for a stupid little kit? Everything shone like starlight, a glance upwards revealed a bare night sky, everything was light and weightless.

“StarClan is a Clan of success. A Clan of achievement, accomplishment. It’s… unbelievably easy.” Shiningstar cocked its head, and Marshkit found herself in an entire other world.

Mist, red and brown fog, choked trees older than time. The ground was damp and sticky under Marshkit’s paws. There was no sky to see. “The Place of No Stars is a refuge for failures. Only immense mistakes and embarrassing decisions will bring you here. But I will make sure you’re not admitted to this…” Shiningstar spat on the ground, “sickening place.”

Marshkit wanted to cry, to scream, anything that would make her wake up. “That’s why I have come to you. RiverClan is your second home. This,” the scene changed again, “will be your first.” Shiningstar turned its back to Marshkit, and she unfroze. It was… terrifying, this place, it was…

Tall, thin trees, aligned in exact rows, faded as they grew upwards into what could be called a cloud, or fog, or… what was it? There was no underbrush, no comfortable reeds or rushes, no dens, no rocks, nothing. It seemed bare and that scared Marshkit.

Shiningstar’s voice echoed in your mind. This was to be your primary home?

“This place is called The Haze.” Shiningstar sighed. “It is my creation, an afterlife to which all are welcome. And you,” he turned to Marshkit, “will help me build it.”

Build it?

“Now, now, I don’t mean to overwhelm you. You’ll be seeing more of me. For now, wake up. Wake up.”

Wake up.

“Wake up! Marshkit!” Marshkit didn’t realize she had been screaming until she closed her mouth. “Are you okay? You’ve been yowling your head off!”

Ripplepond licked her she-kit’s head. A voice from inside her mind spoke up.

_ Don’t tell a soul. _

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is appreciated!


End file.
